Why Write When Everyone is Doing It?

I have danced around the idea of creating a blog for a LONG time. I had the idea when I was still an undergrad, watching the world of print media change. For a while I had work published on Associated Content – that site no longer exists (sad face!). As most writers, over the years I have engaged in a constant internal debate and negative self-talk – “Who will read it?” “Who will even care?” It is these conversations with myself that have kept me away from writing for far too long. I start lots of projects and then talk myself out of each and every one of them. To be honest, negative self-talk isn’t the only reason, but more on that later. 

However, those thought patterns shifted during the pandemic and while working from home, I started to think – “why not?” My story is just as valid as anyone else’s and after speaking with a friend, she inadvertently gave me validation for this project; she said, “I think your voice is unique and needed.” Honestly, there are few BIPOC bloggers and even fewer of those make up the community talking about people living with autism and other intellectual disabilities. According to some of the only statistics available, in 2006, The Pew Research Center reported that “60% of bloggers are White, 11% are African American, 19% are English-speaking Hispanic and 10% identify as some other race.” Personally, I feel that’s unacceptable. Our world is far more diverse; the content we broadcast and consume should be a reflection of our communities. 

While my son can’t read this, maybe my future children will. I can’t live my truth without embracing the whole reason I wanted to write in the first place. To act as an arm in the machine Thoreau speaks of, learning how it functions and how to break it from the inside out. As cliché as it sounds, I wanted to give a voice to the voiceless. I spent a large portion of my life feeling like I was unseen and unheard. When I started to find my voice and my strength, I wanted to offer that platform to others. I wanted to go into the forgotten communities and tell their stories – the amazing stories that are often never given more than a brief 15-second clip. 

In a world full of immediacy and rapidly supplied content; markets that are oversaturated with noise, I hope you will make a little time and space for my story. Not because I want the attention, but because I have been through a great deal of things while on this journey and maybe my heart can speak truth to someone else’s similar experience. My parenting motto early on became, “prepare for the worst, but hope for the best.” I always say parenting is hard work, but raising a special needs kid is a whole different ball game, especially when you are facing the world alone. So, I am not writing this for the woman I am now, I am writing this for the woman I was and for the other women or parents that may need a laugh, a relatable story, a moment to cry because they feel seen, someone who isn’t afraid to be honest about the heartbreak, and most importantly to remind people that we all stumble. It is important to remember no matter how much we stumble, feel lost or unsure, we get up. Push forward. And keep hoping for the best.